


Peace of Mind

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Bisexual Male Character, Childbirth, M/M, Magical Realism, Male Pregnancy, Multi, Originally Posted on Tumblr, POV Second Person, Spontaneous Pregnancy, Threesome - M/M/M, Trans Male Character, Transgender Pregnancy, Unplanned Pregnancy, imagine, it's just pure pregnancy kink folks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-05
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-11-24 17:42:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20911556
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Imagine you're a young trans man, single and well-off, and one day you find you're pregnant as if by magic.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> originally submitted to imagineyourepregnant on tumblr

Imagine you're a trans man, and your life is pretty good. You don't have a lot of close friends, but you're gainfully employed as a freelance web designer. You've dated a few people over the years, however things never got serious. But you're only in your mid-twenties, so you're not feeling any rush to settle down.

Anyway, despite the fact that you have had your tubes tied, you find yourself exhibiting some suspicious symptoms lately: gagging at the smell of your favorite foods, feeling faint when you get out of bed, and odd mood disruptions. After you find yourself crying over a cute puppy video on YouTube, it suddenly clicks.

Maybe you're pregnant.

"Fuck." You shake your head and protest to your empty house. "No way. No. Nuh-uh."

It's not like you've been having any casual sex lately. Actually, you've been through a dating dry spell these past few months. And you don't like taking dicks vaginally anyway!

Probably just weird stress from the big project, you reason to yourself, and resolve to finish this client's stuff as fast as you can, instead of goofing off on YouTube.

But a week later you have to move your belt buckle to a looser notch, and that freaks you out enough to go buy a pee test, just for peace of mind.

The peace of mind doesn't come. The test comes up positive.

"Fuck."

Abortion. Gotta get an abortion. One problem, though. You have no idea how many weeks along you are, and the thought of going to a gynecologist to find out fills you with dread. You've been to places like that before, and they're female-based from wall to wall, and they'll see you as female, and fuck, you cannot handle that.

You do a little googling for trans-friendly abortion providers near you, and nothing good comes up.

So you google for "what can cause a miscarriage". Everything that comes up seems really dangerous to your own life, except for one: Stress.

Time to take on some more big clients, then.

You stretch yourself thin getting eight new projects in the next week, and the next week four more on top of that. This continues for many weeks. You're putting in long hours of coding and emailing and Skyping. Whenever you have to meet a client face-to-face in real life, you have a terrible fear they might notice your little baby bump.

Luckily that doesn't happen.

Unluckily you remain pregnant.

And that baby bump isn't so little anymore.

Shit, it's been a while since the test came up positive. You rub your stomach as you check the calendar and do some quick mental estimations. You're probably like... four or five months pregnant now, maybe? Shit.

Manning up finally, you face the situation and decide to cross the border into another country where the law will allow you to get an abortion this late along. The extra income from the extra work comes in handy for the ticket price.

During the long train ride, you're watching a dad and his kid playing a few seats away from you. They're pretty cute, you gotta admit.

Then there's a quick flurry under your waistband, and your eyes go wide and teary.

This.... is the first time you've really felt major movement. With a jolt you realize you actually want this child, even though being pregnant is the WORST.

"Fuck," you say under your breath. You're getting visions of the spare room in your house, spiffed up to become a nursery. And, you were always good with kids, back when you babysat your way through college.

"Aw hell." You laugh quietly to yourself. "Fine, fine. I'll do it."

You take the rest of the ride as bonding time with your baby, rubbing your swollen stomach as much as you can without drawing attention from the other passengers. You're kind of a chubby guy anyway, so it probably wouldn't be hard to convince people that this baby is just fat.

You head back home and use your abortion money to order baby supplies online instead. And you book an appointment with the closest trans-friendly ob/gyn in your insurance network. He's a trans man himself, actually! His clinic is called Rainbow Babies, and specializes in helping LGBT parents have kids. The place is in another city but you decide it's worth the travel.

You've got peace of mind at last.

(But for how long?)


	2. Chapter 2

You're a single bisexual trans man, working from home as a freelance web designer. Despite having your tubes tied and not being particularly sexually active for many months, you found yourself pregnant a while ago. Understandably, you had a period of denial and anguish about the situation! But now you've decided to yourself that you do want to raise a child, and for that, you can put up with the tribulation of pregnancy.

The drive to your first prenatal appointment is long, almost two hours on the highway. Baby seems more active than usual during the trip, and you find yourself stroking your tummy in response to every flutter. The kid must be just as anxious as you are.

Dr. Bryan is all smiles when you meet him after a short wait. He's a somewhat slender fellow, and on the shorter side, but a lot of men are built like that, so you'd have never guessed he was transgender if you hadn't read it online. He's very pleasant, of course, and polite as hell; doesn't even bat an eyelid when you tell him you don't know who got you pregnant.

He does a brief examination of your general health before calling in a nurse to help with the ultrasound. "Time to finally get a look," you say to nobody in particular, as you rub your belly and imagine what's inside.

The nurse is named Shanna. She's a plump young woman with oaky brown skin and wavy hair dyed in shades of red and pink. Pretty attractive, you think, and wonder if she's single.

You feel awkward as you bare your stomach to her, because for these past months, you've been purposely concealing the pregnancy from people around you, fearful that it jeopardized your ability to be read as a man.

But she doesn't react with horror or shock or laughter at the sight of your obvious pregnancy. No, she just squirts a big blob of clear gel onto you and starts spreading it around.

The gel is cold and her hands are warm. You shiver and your heart is speeding up. Are you anxious? Or... aroused?

She notices you're on edge, and she smiles and strokes your arm to calm you.

Oh yeah. This is arousal you're feeling, definitely. This is one time you're glad you don't have a penis, because popping a boner right now would make this appointment pretty awkward.

Shanna runs the ultrasound probe across your gelled-up skin and switches the machine on. You can't see the screen from here, but Dr. Bryan is looking intently at it and nodding small nods while jotting notes down. "Everything looks good," he says after a couple minutes. "They're pretty big already."

"They're big?" you blurt quickly, trying to sit up. "I'm having more than one?"

Dr. Bryan shakes his head reassuringly. "Oh no, I mean the singular 'they'." He turns the screen on its hinge so you can see.

Your jaw drops open. It's a shocking sight; not quite the perfect cliché baby shape you've seen on TV, but still unmistakably a small person. You look from the screen to your belly and back a couple times. That small person is really growing under your skin. Wow.

One of the fuzzy arms on the image moves suddenly, and you feel the jab on your left side. "Wow." This time you say it out loud.

Dr. Bryan smiles. "Would you like to know the baby's apparent sex?"

"Ah, no."

"I didn't think you would. But I always ask."

You feel happy tears threatening to burst out. "I love this clinic! You're so fucking considerate! Oh my god, Dr. Bryan, please tell me you'll personally be there for me at the hospital when I give birth." You've heard the story of your own birth from your parents, about how their own doctor was on vacation and they were surrounded by strangers the whole time.

"Oh yes, definitely, if you have a hospital birth I'll be there the whole time. Or you can deliver at the facilities here."

Ah! You'd forgotten it, but you'd read on their website that the Rainbow Babies Clinic has a whole half of the building set up for labor and birth. Dr. Bryan has another patient to get to right now, but he says that Shanna will be glad to offer you a tour. You get dressed and together the two of you check it out. It looks lovely; the rooms have really nice beds, and large tubs, and aromatherapy, and all sorts of other amenities.

"It'll be like giving birth in a five-star hotel!" you say to Shanna. You're grinning ear to ear and rubbing your belly in little happy circles. "I'm so glad I found this place!" Shanna beams a smile back at you and you give her an impulsive hug.

On your tour of the place, you even get the honor to meet one of the newest arrivals. There's a lesbian couple who just had their baby last night, and the birth mother is still recuperating, but she welcomes your visit anyway. "We don't have much family left that we're close with," her wife says. "So it's good to meet new friendly people. Especially fellow queer parents!" She gives your tummy a pat.

You exchange phone numbers with the couple, anticipating you might need to swap baby care hints or whatever in the future. After the tour, Dr. Bryan makes time to chat with you again. "So, have you come to a decision about hospital versus here?"

"Here, definitely!"

He nods. "Good, good. Don't worry; our staff is highly-trained, and we even have a surgical room on the second floor in case of something really serious happening. We do everything we can to ensure your peace of mind."


	3. Chapter 3

Being pregnant isn't easy on your body. You've had to stop taking testosterone in order to let the rest of your hormones do their work of baby development unfettered. As a result, you've noticed some uhh, swelling in your chest area.

You bring this up with Dr. Bryan at your thirty-week appointment. "It's not going to be permanent, is it? I don't wanna have to get top surgery __again__."

"I can't promise you 100%," he says, "but yes I expect they'll shrink down some after delivery, unless you're using them for feeding. That's how it was for me."

You blink at him. "Wait, you've had a kid?"

Dr. Bryan nods. "I was a surrogate for some friends of mine." He pulls out a photo from his wallet and shows you. It's a group shot of two men and a kid about five or six years old. "It's because of my experiences with that pregnancy that I decided to start up this clinic."

"Oh cool." You hand back the photo and Dr. Bryan continues with the examination. Shanna comes in and helps do another ultrasound.

"Baby is head-down, in position for a straightforward delivery," Dr. Bryan says. "Have you had any Braxton Hicks contractions?"

"No, no. Just feeling really full and stretched out all the time. It's murder on my back."

"Hm. I would recommend getting a prenatal massage. Actually, one of my friends who you saw in that picture does massage therapy, if you're interested?"

You definitely are interested in whatever can help with your aches and pains, especially if they have experience with pregnant men, so you take the card and call for an appointment as soon as you're done in the clinic that day.

* * *

"Metro Massage" the place is called, and it's located not too far from your house. You show up feeling nervous and trying to hide your belly under a long jacket. There's nobody else in the small waiting room, and you sit down, rubbing the bottom of your belly where your pants dig in.

After ten minutes or so, the previous customer leaves and it's your turn to get massaged. Allen is the masseuse's name; he's a big sort of lumberjack-looking guy, with a trim red beard. You settle onto the strange-shaped bed and start to undress, stripping down to your boxers while Allen washes his hands and puts on some music. It seems to be a kind of ambient soul-jazz playlist, with saxophones and soft piano, very relaxing, almost on the verge of sensual.

"So you're surrogating too?" he asks as you lay down on your side.

"No, I- I'm going to raise them myself," you stammer.

"Hmm." Allen begins to lightly rub your shoulders. His hands are warm, and coated with an aromatic lotion. "Big job, being a single parent," he says after a minute.

"Yeah, well, I would love to have a husband or wife to help me out. But I'm shit at dating."

Allen moves down a bit to your spine. At first it hurts but soon it feels good, his strong fingers working out the knotted muscle. "I always thought bisexuals would have it easier, since you can date anyone!"

"Nah, being bi just means I get nervous around more than just women." You laugh, and then wince.

"You all right?"

"I'm fine, it's the kid kicking." You pat your belly. "They were asleep until just now, ugh, and they like to do a goddamn aerobics routine when they wake up."

Allen pulls a chair up to sit in front of you. "Lemme see if I can calm 'em down." He begins to stroke, with controlled and even movements from your sides inward to your navel.

It feels really nice. The baby must think so too, because they quickly ease off on kicking.

"Thanks," you tell Allen. "Do you do a lot of prenatal massage?"

"Not a lot. But some."

"You're good at it."

"Thanks." He grabs the lotion again and opens the cap to spread more across your stomach. "You're getting some stretch marks."

You don't know what to say to that. You've been putting lotion on at home whenever you remember, but maybe not often enough, or maybe not the right kind. You remember someone in your college bragged she didn't get any stretch marks from her pregnancy, so it's not like they're inevitable.

Allen hums along with the music, slowly rubbing the generous amount of lotion into your overtaxed skin.

The combination of his warm touch and the soft calm music has you more relaxed than you've felt in many months. You let out a contented sigh.

"Feels really good, huh?" Allen asks. Your eyes are closed but you can hear that he's smiling.

"Yeah," you answer. "Really really good."

Allen moves his hands in a curved pattern up over your torso, thumbs running over your nipples briefly.

"Oh fuck," you say without thinking, "yeah that's good." Unintentionally there's an "adult" tone to the way you said it.

Allen stops his hands. "This isn't supposed to be sexual. I could get in trouble if-"

Your eyes fly open. "No please. Just for me, maybe you could? I swear I won't report you to the massage authorities," you add with a little laugh.

Allen is frowning, but not very intensely.

"I haven't been able to get off properly with this hampering me," you rub the wide curve of your belly.

Allen looks at you a long moment. "I can't in good conscience take your money to help get you off," he says firmly.

"All right, all right." You sigh forlornly.

He continues after a moment, though. "But... if you're that much in need of some release,you can come to our house this evening. Our kid Linsey's spending the night at a friend's slumber party."

You almost can't believe it. "Your husband gonna be okay with that?"

"Heh, me and Mike have done threesomes before, and he mentioned to me last week he's been wanting to do it again."

"And it's not gonna bother you guys that I don't have a dick? I mean like, I can bring my silicone dick but it's not quite the sa-"

"Hey, just having a third body in the bed is fun times," Allen says with a smile.

God, you're so fucking lucky! Just the thought of getting some action is making you hot, but you try to stay unaroused for now, since Allen doesn't want you cumming during the massage. He brings you some ice water to help cool your jets, and then texts you his address while you sip.

"Looking forward to it," you tell him, grinning awkwardly.


End file.
